


Ceremonial

by knightswhosay



Series: Experimental Design [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Rare Pair, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightswhosay/pseuds/knightswhosay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst + smut. Established relationship. Imayoshi sleeps badly and gets out of bed. Aida comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceremonial

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs several years later than the other fics I've written for this pairing/this series. Imayoshi and Aida are twenty-something and living together. Also, thanks for all the support I've gotten for writing this pairing.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat. Like always, he rolls out of bed and stumbles into the kitchen, not bothering to put on any clothes, not bothering to turn on the kitchen light. He finds his way over to the sink with his hands and fills a glass with cold water. He pulls out a chair from the table in the middle of the room; it squeaks on the tile floor and his finally awake enough to hope he doesn't wake her up. He sits down, holding the glass between his hands, and shakes as the fear-sweat evaporates.

The light flicks on. Riko is standing in the doorway, wearing a tank-top and panties that Shouichi remembers taking off last night, but he shouldn't really be surprised because she always gets cold at night, even in summer.

She puts her hands on hips and demands, “Is something wrong?” and Shouichi thinks _isn't that just like her._

“I'm fine,” he says and starts to smile at her, the smile that is his default, his mask, but he catches sight of the angry red marks down her neck and down her thighs and remembers things said in the dark, things he couldn't say in the day but that she could read anyway, and something happens and his grin cracks and falls away.

She walks behind him and puts her hands on his shoulders. He shivers; her hands are cold. Then she starts to pull and push at the knotted muscles and he winces because it hurts, but when her hands move away he feels better. “Give me a minute,” she says, then disappears into the bedroom.

When she emerges, she walks over to him and sits in his lap so that she faces him, her legs sticking out past the back of the chair. Carefully, she slides his glasses onto his face and Shouichi is a little relived by seeing everything in more detail again. She musses with his hair, for what effect he's not sure, and then sits back. “There. Now you look almost like your usual self again.”

“Almost?”

“Mm-hm. Almost.” She's smiling and it's a smile much more akin to that of her old center's than Shouichi's smile, but Riko has never been anyone except herself and her smiles are just the same way and its for that reason that he's able to look back at her without pasting on his own, manufactured grin. “You're missing the oozing smirk.”

He leans over so that his lips are right below her ear and kisses her, before letting his lips trail down her throat. Then, higher than any of the marks he left the night before and much higher than her collar, he bites down. She gasps and he leans back, his smirk sliding onto his lips naturally, and he remembers that he does, in fact, like being this person. “Is this one right?”

“Mmm, yeah. That's the one.” She pushes herself upward so that she is taller than him and leans over, pressing her body against his, and tilts his face upward, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, before kissing him, gentle and tender at first but then harder until he submits, opening up for her. One of his hands grips the edge of the chair, pushing down so it doesn't decide to fall backward and crack his head open on the tile, but his other hand finds its way to her waist, which is small under his large hands. His hand slides lower to tease at the hem of her underwear, his fingers just slipping under the elastic.

“You know, I distinctly remember taking this off just a few hours ago,” he says, then slides his hand in the rest of the way and squeezes one of the cheeks, hard. She gasps again.

“Fuck,” she says and moves away from his mouth to place open-mouthed kisses on his neck. He tilts his head further, groaning, to give her better access because after all, who is Shouchi to say no.

He squeezes her again, more gently, then starts to push down her panties, as far as they'll go until she gets the point. She breaks away from him, breathing much more heavily than before, and awkwardly shuffles and rearranges her legs around until they come off, then taking the opportunity to pull off her top as well.

She falls back onto his chest and his fingers creep up her back, causing her to arch into him. He can feel himself getting harder and harder and pressing into one of her thighs. He looks at her face and she is grinning, or as best as she can with his hand cupping her breast, his thumb rolling around the nipple, so he smirks back, as best he can while panting, and brings his forefinger up to his thumb and pinches the nipple.

She gasps and her hips buck, but a moment later one of her hands leaves his hair and starts trailing down his chest until she pinches his nipple, harder he thinks, than he did hers. He moans and bucks. “You are very naughty,” he says, resting his forehead against hers.

“Mm-hmm,” she answers, kissing him. Then she pinches him again, stopping the kissing just long enough that she can hear his next moan reverberate around the kitchen.

His hand trails down the side of her body to her hip, then down to her crotch, where he parts her pubic hair to push in one finger, then two, pumping them gently to a serenade of small gasps, until he rolls his thumb against her clitoris and she moans, “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he pants, “Yeah, that's the general idea,” then he pushes his third finger and maybe it's still a little early, because she hisses, but a moment later, she's closed her eyes and is bucking against his fingers and Shouichi is pretty sure he could cum just by watching her fuck herself on his fingers. Then she pulls up and away, moaning a little over the lost contact, before positioning herself above him.

“Condom?” he asks, because while she's been on the pill for months, they still try to make a habit of using one.

She pouts. “But I wanted to fuck you here and now. I don't want to move.”

He laughs, “Then let's not,” and pecks her on the lips.

Slowly, she lowers herself on him and he moans, loud and low. She is so warm and wet and tight that it's all he can do not to bucking into her like a depraved animal. As it is, he knows she can feel his hips stutter against her, because she smirks and pulls up again and he whines at the lost contact but then she slams down onto him again and Shouichi still has enough control to wait until the very last moment in her path to thrust up into her and she throws her head back and keens.

“Fuck,” she says, “Fuck Shouichi.”

“Riko,” he breathes and his hand travels down to her hip, gripping it so tight that it will probably be a bruise, but really Riko needs no encouragement because she starts rising and falling faster and faster and really he admires her timing because he has none anymore because he is just thrusting wildly up into her doing his best not to cum.

She shrieks and Shouichi knows he has hit the best spot because her mantra of “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” is coming faster and louder and he tries again for that spot, for that scream, and around him, he feels her getting tighter and his second hand moves to other hip and he slams her down on him one more time and keens, cumming inside of her. Then she constricts around him and pulls his hair and he feels her hips stutter.

Then it is over and she collapses on top of him. They pant.

She pulls herself off of him and settles back into his lap, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. He leans over and kisses her mouth, then trails down to her neck where he kisses his bite marks, and, for good measure, makes a new one, eliciting a small mewl out of her. She falls forward onto his chest, nuzzling her face into the place between his neck and shoulder.

“Shouichi.”

“Hmm?” He brings one of his hands up to her head, tangling his fingers in her hair.

“I want to go to bed.”

“And?”

“I want you to carry me.”

“What a spoiled princess.”

“Shut up,” she says, without much bite. A beat of silence. “I'm a queen, not a princess.”

“In that case, I suppose there's no way I can refuse.” His hand, the one not in her hair, slides down her back and over the curve of butt to support her from just under her thighs as he stumbles to a standing position. Riko's arms twine around his neck and her legs twine around his body.

He stumbles back to the bedroom, someone's errant elbow turning off the kitchen light-switch then banging against the doorway, and they fall onto the bed. Shouichi curls around her body and lets his hand trail up and down it.

“Go to sleep already,” she says. He smirks and lets his hand travel to her crotch, letting a finger slip between her legs and tease at her opening. She gasps. “Stop that,” she says, voice mixed with arousal, annoyance, and weariness. He smirks, just to make sure she knows he can, then relents.

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

 

 


End file.
